


Peachy

by flightlessnerds



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Frottage, Gentle Sex, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pegging, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlessnerds/pseuds/flightlessnerds
Summary: The pink hair starts it.





	Peachy

**Author's Note:**

> it seems ridiculous that i haven’t written jenshler until now. nonsense. had to fix it immediately. 
> 
> also sorry for my absence - I really missed this!

The pink hair starts it. 

It’s not like he doesn’t always notice her anyway, but the hair just makes her impossible for Josh to ignore. 

The warm weather doesn’t help either; Firefly Festival has fallen on what feels like the hottest week of the summer, and the by the end of the day, everyone has stripped down to the least amount of clothing possible. 

And Jenna is everywhere. 

She’s there on the ride in, all smiles, twisting her hair and laughing delightedly at Josh’s surprise. 

“You inspired me,” she says, twinkling at him, warm pink falling between her fingers. 

She’s there at soundcheck too, cross-legged on the ground in front of the stage, and Josh feels his attention being pulled in two directions, between Jenna, her face a picture of sun-kissed adoration, and Tyler, unable to resist showing off for her. 

And she’s there during their set, standing side stage, just barely in Josh’s line of view. He might have missed her, might not have let his gaze drift in that direction, but the _pink,_ the pink is like a drug to him, like a gravitational pull. He wants his hands in her hair, and the realization is almost enough to make him miss a downbeat or two. 

It’s never felt like this before. Their arrangement is simple, really: Jenna knows what he and Tyler are to each other, has given her blessing, her permission, time and time again. She’s allayed Josh’s anxieties on the subject, insisted that she wants this for them, that it _adds_ to her and Tyler’s relationship, doesn’t take away from it - always with Tyler’s staunch agreement. It’s been like a dream, this past year, he and his best friend finally being allowed to belong to each other in this way, learning each other’s bodies, learning each other’s mouths and hearts, one piece at a time. 

Josh never thought he could crave anything beyond what he’s already been granted. It doesn’t matter that he and Tyler haven’t done _everything_ yet; the hands, and mouths, and fingers have always been more than enough. But it was the fingers, after all, that planted this seed in the first place - when Josh, cautiously knuckle-deep inside him one night, had realized that this particular kind of intimacy wasn’t new to Tyler, that the ecstatic but confident abandon of his noises was not the sound of inexperience. 

He looked at Jenna’s hands differently after that.

And maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the delirium of summer, but Josh can’t think about anything else. He can’t do a single thing except drum and want and drum and _want,_ gets so lost in the feeling that the show passes in a heartbeat, and he barely remembers getting into the crowd for trees until it’s over, and he’s facing Tyler, chest heaving, sweating and grinning and covered in confetti. 

Tyler looks like an angel, Josh thinks - and he isn’t the only one. Another angel is waiting for them the moment they get off stage, soft and ethereal and _pink_ , and he feels guilty for even thinking it, let alone for letting it make his limbs go numb. 

Tyler’s on her the minute they’re out of sight of the crowd, clinging to her in a desperate kiss, so enthusiastic that he practically lifts her off her feet. They break apart only because they both end up smiling too much, laughing gently, and Josh has seen it a hundred times, but nevertheless feels the inexplicable urge to look away. 

On a rational level, he understands, of course he understands that Tyler can’t kiss him here and now, that their kisses have to happen in private, farther away from the fans and the crew and the narrow minds and eyes. It’s always been like that - but this time, he feels the injustice of it settle like a weight in his chest. 

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring until Jenna’s eyes are on him. She must spot some degree of need in his expression, because she moves away from Tyler and towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck without warning, and leaning in to whisper in Josh’s ear: 

“Come with us.” 

She smells like flowers - pink ones. 

“Come home with us. Don’t be alone tonight.” 

It’s too quiet for anyone but him to hear, but Josh thinks Tyler understands anyway, from the way he’s smiling tenderly at him over Jenna’s shoulder. Between the two of them, Josh can barely form a rational thought. He just knows that he _wants,_ he wants _more,_ and yet his desire not to overstep is equally strong. 

He isn’t communicating like he should be, and he knows it; he knows that brooding and pining is the wrong way to go about this kind of thing, that silence is more likely to end in hurt feelings and awkwardness - and yet he can’t seem to make himself do anything else. 

She’s waiting for a response, though, and Josh forces himself to give one. 

“It’s okay?” he wonders, looking between both of them. 

Tyler’s the one who answers, all quiet affection. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

*  
There’s a bus there for them, but Josh drives his rental car to the hotel - a freedom he only ever has during these one-off shows, and one he appreciates immensely. Driving is a task he can manage, even with a head clouded by aching confusion. 

He hands the keys over to a valet, and just like during the show an hour before, he can’t remember how he gets from the lobby to Jenna and Tyler’s room until he’s surprised to be standing in front of their door.

The response to his knock is immediate. Jenna’s the one who meets him on the other side of the door, Tyler in the dim background, and both of them look so _goddamn soft_ that Josh can barely even process it. Tyler’s at a table by the beds, shirtless - when _isn’t_ he, when they’re in private - engrossed in his portable keyboard; and Jenna, Jenna’s right in front of him in that black tank top that’s leaves nothing at all to the imagination, showing off tan lines and ribs and the smooth milky skin that Josh has woken up thinking about more than once. 

She’s taken out her braid, and tied her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head, washed off her makeup; she glows, she literally glows, and Josh can hardly stand it. This isn’t part of the agreement. He’s not _supposed_ to be feeling this tug in his chest, this urge to reach out and touch her, and find out what her teeth feel like on his neck. 

“You came,” she hums, as if there had been any question. 

It takes her a moment to draw Tyler’s attention away from his keyboard - always working, always moving - but when he sees that Josh is there, he’s across the room in seconds. It doesn’t take more than a glance for Josh to see that he’s buzzing with energy, clean from a shower, but still as flushed and breathless and beautiful as he’d been onstage. 

He backs Josh against the wall, holding on clumsily to the front of his shirt - and then he’s kissing him, deep and slow, his tongue pressing just slightly in between his lips. The familiarity of it brings Josh back to earth, and he responds to the kiss with gusto, reaching out to clutch at Tyler’s shirt too, but finding only his warm abdomen. 

It’s nothing new, but Josh can count on one hand the number of time’s they’ve made out in front of Jenna, and he isn’t used to feeling watched. But despite the unfamiliarity, he finds that he likes having her there. Loves it, even; loves the way he catches her looking at them when he breaks away, quiet and emotional. She reaches out for Josh’s arm, and Tyler seems to sense her presence, slumping backwards into her and nuzzling into her shoulder. 

Josh watches him, and feels hot envy creep back up into his chest. It’s not just that Tyler gets to have Jenna, it’s that he has them _both,_ that out of all of them, Tyler’s the one who gets twice the love, twice the touch. He knows it’s not greed; Tyler needs that kind of reassurance. He knows that where Josh has always been quick to love, Tyler has been closed off from it, that it’s a miracle he’s let both of them break down the walls around his heart as much as they have, and honestly, when Josh thinks about it, when he really thinks about it, it’s a wonder that it’s taken _him_ so long to want both of them at once. 

Jenna speaks from behind Tyler.

“I can give you two some time,” she tells them, eyes generous, like it’s the simplest thing. “I could use a long shower anyway.” 

She glances from Tyler to him, and Tyler follows her gaze, looking at Josh to see what he wants, if he plans to say. And Josh knows that they’ll make room for him if he asks for it, that he can have a night with Tyler all to himself at the drop of a hat if he just says so, because that’s the arrangement, that’s their miraculous status quo -

\- except that _isn’t_ what he wants. He floods with guilt and embarrassment from his ears to his chest at the thought of it. Tyler reaches down to mess nervously with Josh’s hands, still waiting, still comforting. 

But Jenna’s eyes do the opposite. She grows focused, gets straight to the point. 

“What is it you want, Josh?” 

She says it softly, maybe even lovingly, and yet it overwhelms him like a tidal wave against his chest. He knows what he wants, he’s just not sure whether it’s allowed. He thinks it probably can’t be, and it’s eating him inside. 

Jenna figures it out, though. She always does. He watches it occur to her, can pinpoint the slight shift in her features, melting into something warm, but still cautious. 

“Josh,” she tries again, angling her head. “Would you prefer if I stay?” 

He shrugs, about to cop out entirely, if it weren’t for that _smell,_ and the _pink,_ and the way she keeps saying his name, _Josh, Josh,_ somehow longer than when Tyler says it, like it’s worth the extra breath. 

“It’s more than that, though,” he chokes out. 

Jenna blinks. 

He turns to Tyler, an apology ready on his lips, but it’s not enough - Tyler won’t get it. He can’t bring himself to say anything more, to incite change where no change is needed. It had been one matter to negotiate what they have now, to make tender confessions and bring their burgeoning, innocent feelings to Jenna for permission. But this is marriage. His best friend’s wife. The first and _oldest thou shalt_ not he’s known. 

The apology never comes - it doesn’t need to, because Jenna’s in front of him now, and she’s speaking, and he fights through the cloud of guilt and makes himself listen. 

“I think I understand,” she’s saying, suddenly _right_ in front of him. 

Her hands are on him, gently asking, running her finger tips down his forearms until she’s just barely linking feather-light fingers with the tips of his own. He can’t remember the last time she looked him in the eyes like this, and God, have they always been that blue, or is it just his heightened senses? 

And then he’s sure he’s slipped back into his head, certain he must be lost in the space between sleeping and waking, because it doesn’t make sense, and he barely has time to process before there’s a soft, small hand on his jaw, coaxing him to face her, and the last word out of her mouth before she kisses him is _Josh._

He’s floating. He’s dreaming. It’s never felt like this before, like he’s being lifted off his feet, filling with air, the kiss thrumming in his chest like a thousand orchestras; it’s nothing like fireworks, it’s all suspension and breathlessness and _light_ and he _can’t believe_ her mouth is on him, the lips he’s been looking at all day, all year. 

Jenna moves her lips to his cheek, her stray hairs tickling his forehead as she goes, leaving one last long, slow kiss there. Josh’s eyes go right to Tyler...

...who’s standing there looking like it’s his birthday. There’s surprise in his expression, but just a little - it’s outweighed by elation. Josh can tell that he’s holding back from speaking, giving the two of them their moment, and he takes the offer, allowing Jenna to pull his face back to her again. 

“Josh, do you want to be with us tonight?” 

He nods, entranced. 

“Both of us?” Tyler adds, all encouragement, and no challenge. He knows Tyler, and there isn’t a trace of jealousy in his voice, not an ounce of malice. It’s only then and there that Josh even considers the possibility that Tyler could want this too - that maybe it isn’t just Josh who hasn’t been speaking his mind. 

He nods again, and witnesses Tyler go breathless, but it’s nothing compared to how Josh feels, like his legs are barely holding him up anymore. 

But Jenna is there, Jenna has solid hands on his waist, and she pulls him down onto her shoulder, so swift and generous that he’s almost worried that his weight will knock her backwards. And then Tyler’s there too, bracing from behind. The three of them steady themselves, each one holding onto the other two, and Josh is overwhelmed with the palpable sensation of something grand and invisible falling into place. 

“Let me wash off a little,” Jenna whispers in between them. 

Josh reaches out instinctively to keep her from going, getting a fistful of her tank top, and she twists around, laughing. 

She leans in, pecking his cheek. 

“I’ll be right back, babe.” 

Something silent passes from her eyes to Tyler’s, in a married language that Josh can’t translate. And then she’s slipping away in the direction of the bathroom, already peeling her tank away from her body. He watches her go in amazement, but Tyler’s eyes stay locked on him, and when Josh turns back, he can’t read his expression. 

He swallows, guilt seeping back in through the cracks of his conscience. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” he manages to ask. They still haven’t pulled away from each other, and Tyler draws even closer, his hands slack on Josh’s chest. 

He lets himself look at Tyler’s lips - an indulgence that Tyler allows, enjoys, regularly. He’s let his scruff grow out a little, and Josh wants to know what it feels like, so he finds out, brushing his mouth over Tyler’s cupid’s bow, making the other boy hum. 

Tyler tips back enough to lean his forehead against Josh’s, eyes closed. 

“Please, Josh,” he says quietly, without a hint of sarcasm. He means it. “Please - I love you both so much.” 

The words flood Josh’s whole body. He grips a hand around the back of Tyler’s neck, and lets him tuck his head into the crook of Josh’s shoulder, affectionate. 

“She loves you too, you know,” he murmurs. His voice is docile but determined, like he knows how important it is to convey this. “She’s so good at love, Josh. You don’t even know yet.”

Josh shudders. 

“I want to find out.”

Tyler smiles against his skin. 

“I want you to.” 

It’s delightful, impossible, and he crushes Tyler in an giddy embrace, knocking the wind out of both of them. Tyler laughs into the hug, stumbling and swaying, and Josh lets the relief of familiarity propel him away from the entryway, accepting, finally, that he isn’t going to have to leave. 

Someone’s turned down the sheets on the bed already, and he’s hit with a vision of Jenna bustling around the space while Tyler was at the piano earlier, tidying and nesting, not out of duty, but because that’s what Jenna does - she makes everything feel like home just by touching it. 

Tyler kneels on the bed.

“Kiss me again, Josh,” he murmurs, and Josh does it gladly, winding willing arms around Tyler’s warm, naked torso. He kisses away the rest of his anxiety, holding Tyler close to him for comfort, and focusing on nothing more or less than the gentle give-and-take of their mouths moving against each other. 

It never gets old, kissing his best friend like this. It still knocks him senseless every time. Josh lets his shirt come off, for the sheer pleasure of having their warm chests pressed together, soft hands on warm skin. 

Tyler pulls back, gazing flushed and open mouthed behind him. Josh feels gentle fingertips on the small of his back, and puts two and two together. 

“Sweetheart,” Jenna hums, and it takes Josh a long and awestruck moment to realize she’s speaking to him. He doesn’t even have a chance to let it register, because the next thing he knows, there’s one set of lips peppering kisses at the top of his spine, and another one moving gently along his jaw, and Josh can’t even _breathe_ let alone think. 

It isn’t as simple as twice the touch, twice the love. That kind of basic math doesn’t stand up to the vibrations coursing between all three of them, hot and electric, adding up to far more than just three people who would move mountains for each other. Josh is unpracticed at holding this much love inside his body, can’t figure out how Tyler _stands_ it, because he feels like he might fall apart with the weight of it all.

The emotion starts to capsize him, but Jenna doesn’t miss a beat, guiding him to lie down against the pillows, pressing against his side. She’s changed into a clean t-shirt, high-necked in a way that makes it even harder than usual to look away from her chest. 

“It’s okay, love,” she tells him in his ear, softer than a dream. “Breathe for me.” 

He does. 

“I’m right here,” she stresses, and Tyler nudges him in agreement, nuzzling his forehead against Josh’s shoulder.

Josh doesn’t know which way to turn, which one of them to look at - he wants everything all at once, and has no idea where to begin. 

On instinct alone, he reaches for Tyler. He responds without hesitation, maneuvering himself eagerly on top of Josh, until their hips are pressed together. 

They’re both getting hard already - Josh has been halfway there since Jenna kissed him by the door. 

“Show me,” Jenna coaxes, her breath sweet and warm on his temple. “Let me see, baby boy. I want to see how good you can be.” 

Josh groans, still chasing instinct and need, and brings his hands to rest against Tyler’s thighs, which flex and fill his palms. 

His name comes tumbling out of Tyler’s lips, and Josh can see him getting flustered, knows what signs to look for - red cheeks, lidded eyes, bruised and parted lips. Josh is overcome with the need to be closer to him, and he rolls his hips up in a slow, tortured movement that has both of them letting out long whines. 

Tyler reaches out a hand for Jenna to take. Josh watches her squeeze it once, giving him a lifeline as he grinds back into Josh, dragging their crotches slowly together. 

Between Tyler’s noises and Jenna’s all-consuming embrace, Josh feels numb. The blood is rushing away from his head, out of every limb, pooling in one single pressure point that Tyler hits again and again every time he grinds down. 

He looks at Josh from under dark lashes, and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, his fingers in the waistband of Josh’s shorts - not pulling, just holding on, drawing attention to where their bodies are pressed together. 

“He’s really hard, Jenna.” Tyler’s voice is broken already, low with pleasure, and he’s not exaggerating at all. “I’ve never felt him this hard.”

Josh tries not to pass out. 

Jenna brings a hand to rest right over his heart.

“Keep going, baby,” she says. “Show me how you two like to feel good together.” 

He’s happy to be given a manageable task, and he begins the hot, heady work of taking Tyler apart - grasping him by the waist, angling their hips so that his hard-on rubs against Josh’s, again and again, through their pants. Tyler has a soft spot for this kind of thing, and Josh would bet anything that Jenna knows it as well as he does. It floods his mind with all kinds of images, visions of Jenna on top of Tyler, pinning him down, wrecking him with friction and closeness, and Josh has to consciously remind himself to keep taking in oxygen. 

Tyler moans at a well-placed thrust, and Jenna hums in response, one hand in Josh’s hair and one on Tyler’s thigh. 

“It’s so easy to get him flustered, yeah?” she says to Josh. Tyler’s pout gets lost in another groan, and Josh returns her smile shyly. He hears Tyler vocalize again, starting to squirm and search for a rhythm against him, and Josh finds himself suddenly desperate for more, following his omnipresent drive to make Tyler feel as good as possible. 

He reaches down, trying to keep his hands steady as he pops the button on Tyler’s waistband, undoing his fly. Even the pull of the zipper over his underwear is enough to draw a shiver from him, and the vibrations travel through both of their bodies. It’s an awkward angle, but he manages to get a hand cupped around Tyler’s balls, his small, hard dick, already dampening his boxers with pre-come. 

“J - ah,” Tyler gasps, and Josh neither knows nor cares which one of their names had on the tip of his tongue. It doesn’t matter. 

He lets Tyler hump clumsily against his hand, and his own eyes fall shut, head hitting the pillow.. It’s good, it’s fucking beautiful, but it’s still not what he’s desperate for. The guilty longing claws at his chest, and it’s only now that he’s here in the moment that he realizes how very badly he wants to give up his control. 

Josh has never ever been dominant - but it’s always been enough for him to channel his submission into making Tyler feel good, doing what Tyler needed. He’s gotten accustomed to hiding his neediness behind service, getting his satisfaction by feeding off of Tyler’s pleasure. Tyler’s gratification is what gratifies Josh in turn; Tyler’s shortening breath is what takes Josh’s away all together. 

And maybe it’s just because Jenna’s here this time, but he just can’t ignore it anymore, the swelling, aching desire for more, to let go of initiative and control - to be taken care of, instead of the other way around. He isn’t going to get it from Tyler. He isn’t going to get it _period_ , if he can’t spit it out. 

“It’s alright, Josh,” Jenna coos, and Josh realizes that she might understand more than she’s letting on. He realizes, amazed, that there may have been a purpose to watching him and Tyler first, before stepping in. She’s been studying, making sense of his dynamic, before going any further. 

God, she’s so much. 

“You’re doing perfect,” she promises. 

“Hhhhnn,” Tyler agrees. 

Josh chews at his lip, tries to force out his thoughts, but they’re caught behind a layer of guilt in his throat. 

“Talk, baby,” Jenna presses. “It’s okay to say what you want.” 

He shakes his head. 

“Feel selfish,” he admits. 

Jenna makes a soft hum of protest, curling in close and kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re the opposite of selfish,” she states confidently, stealing another kiss to prove it. 

Josh blanches, sweats. 

“I want, I want,” he stammers, heart going like thunder. “I want you on top of me,” he moans. “ _Please._ ” 

She doesn’t hesitate for a second. It takes no more than a touch of her hand on Tyler’s thigh to make him move, landing nimbly next to him on the mattress. Josh looks to him nervously, worried that he’ll feel cast aside - but Tyler’s just looking back with wide, patient, beautiful eyes, and Josh is so fucking lucky. 

And then, _God,_ Jenna’s where Tyler was a moment before, and even though he knows she’s lighter, her presence is twice as heavy as his. She’s pinning him down, with just her hands and thighs. 

“Like this, sweetheart?” she hums, low. “You want me here?” 

He whines his assent, and clutches up at her for more, trying to tug her closer. But Jenna isn’t as easily handled as her husband is; she holds her ground - still complying, but at her own pace. 

“I’m here,” she reassures him, and she really is, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He suddenly has a face full of her chest, and he closes the space without thinking, burrowing between her breasts and letting the feeling consume him. She doesn’t pull away - maybe even pulls closer. Her fingers tangle in his curls, holding him in place, letting him breathe in her floral scent, mixed with some kind of citrusy soap from the shower. Mostly, though, it smells like _her._

“You can touch,” she murmurs when he finally pulls back, and he doesn’t waste a second, pushing her t-shirt up to her shoulders and unhooking her bra. Jenna gets them the rest of the way off, and Josh dives back in, whimpering as he kisses, touches, sits back to take it all in. 

He turns his glazed eyes in Tyler’s direction, as if for confirmation that what he’s seeing is really real. Tyler just smiles, almost giddy. 

“I know,” he agrees. 

Josh watches Tyler sit up to press lips to the pink skin around one of Jenna’s nipples, kissing in a slow line around the side of her breast. He reaches back to grab at Josh’s wrist, pulling gently, like he’s giving Josh permission to do the same thing. He takes it willingly. 

The minute he gets his mouth around Jenna’s other nipple, her hands are in his hair again, stroking and teasing in a way that’s almost intoxicating to him. He moves down from her breast, kissing in between and below them, and then as far down her stomach as he can reach. She’s softer even than he had imagined, and he never wants to leave the landscape of her torso again, can’t imagine life without the regular opportunity to touch her here. 

“I like your skin,” Josh mumbles, and then immediately blushes with the stupidity of it. But Jenna doesn’t even give him the chance to be embarrassed, bringing hands down to cup either side of his face, and tilting his head up to look at her. 

“Baby,” she coos, drawing the word out with gentle laughter. “You’re not the only one.” 

Tyler twists beside him, bashful, and Josh grins and blushes again. 

He goes back to her chest, unhurried, kissing and nipping at her skin, even making her breath catch in her throat once or twice. It surprises him when it happens, and he realizes he’s never really seen her flustered until now, never witnessed the slightest break in her composure. It hits him all at once that she might be getting as just aroused as they are, and he suddenly can’t think about anything else in the world. 

Josh trails his fingers down to the band of her gym shorts, twisting the drawstring around his finger and avoiding her gaze. He bites his lip, heart leaping to his throat, and wonders how far this is allowed to go, how far Tyler usually takes it, whether and how and when Jenna likes to be touched. He wants to find out. 

He dares to tug gently at the front of her waistband - just enough to get her attention - and Jenna sits up, raising an eyebrow. 

“Can I…” Josh squeaks, settling his head back on the pillow and looking up at her with glassy, sheepish eyes. He tugs again. 

This time, Jenna catches on. She uses her knees as leverage, and shifts herself up his body until she’s sitting right at the top of his chest. His breath comes in short bursts, but it has nothing to do with her weight.

She turns her head to peer down at Tyler. 

“I think he wants his mouth on me,” she says tranquilly, although there’s heat behind it. “What do you think, Ty?” 

Tyler’s nod is mechanical, like he’s a marionette and Jenna’s pulling the strings. She pauses to stroke a thumb over Tyler’s lips, and leans down to catch him in a quick kiss - a reminder that he’s part of this, that they need him there. 

She shifts her attention back to Josh, staring right into his eyes like she’s looking for something. He’s still holding onto her waistband, grounding himself, nervously twisting at the drawstring. 

“Josh, baby,” she purrs. “I’m gonna give you what you want, but I need to make sure you’re gonna be alright.” She touches two fingers gently underneath his chin. “Are you doing okay? Breathing?” 

Josh bites his lip and nods, wide-eyed. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” she coaxes. “Out loud.” 

He swallows. 

“I’m good,” he breathes. “I’m good, I’m good.” 

Jenna indulges him with a wide smile. He can’t get over how easy she makes this look, with her pajama shorts and her messy bun, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to slowly draw out his vulnerability like this. 

She shifts her way up his chest, bracing herself with both hands in his curls, until she’s hovering with her crotch right over his face - pants still on. Josh realizes that she’s moving slowly for his sake, and he’s grateful for it somewhere deep down - but the feeling is overshadowed by his white-hot eagerness. 

He moves forward greedily, nuzzling his nose into the valley between her thighs, kissing and nipping at the material of her shorts. Josh can _feel_ her through them, warm and wet, and it’s beyond exhilarating. Pointing his tongue as far as he can, Josh pushes the thin fabric between her labia, making her shiver - belatedly, he realizes she isn’t wearing anything underneath. 

Jenna pulls back, and for a minute he worries that he’s done something wrong - but she’s just peeling her shorts down her thighs, nimbly lifting herself off his chest to get them down the rest of the way. As always, Tyler’s there to help - and she rewards him with a kiss and a gentle bite to his neck. 

“Jenna,” Josh whines - a full-on, helpless, strangled whine - and she chuckles at his impatience. 

“I’m right here,” she assures him, hands back in his hair… and she angles her hips and presses herself against his mouth to prove it. 

An involuntary, guttural groan pours out of Josh’s throat the minute he gets his tongue on her, and discovers that - for all her cool composure - she’s _dripping_ wet. Jenna’s holding him rigidly in place by his hair, but he puts his tongue to work, licking wide, flat strokes, and then switching to careful, rhythmic circles, trying to orient himself. He hasn’t done this for a long time - has never done it at this angle - but with Jenna, it’s like some kind of instinct is kicking in. He needs her pleasure like he needs his own. 

It’s not until he gets his tongue on the smooth skin underneath her clit, tracing it with steady kitten-licks, that she starts to shudder, slackening her grip on his hair just a bit. 

“You’re doing so good, Josh,” she breathes, and he’s gratified to hear that she sounds the slightest bit less composed. “ _So_ good.” 

“Nnnn,” Tyler agrees from beside them, without an ounce of composure whatsoever. 

Jenna moves one hand from his hair to run it through Tyler’s, instead. 

“Josh is being so good,” she repeats. “Can you touch him for me, Ty?” 

He makes eye contact with Tyler, and catches the exact moment when both of their brains short circuit at this new request. Tyler bites his lip, and then moves out of view, ducking down and settling himself at Josh’s hip before wrapping a gentle hand around his dick, touching him slowly underneath the head. He knows what Josh likes by now, and the familiarity feels like a small gift in all of this new territory. 

Josh settles back into a comfortable pattern between Jenna’s legs, passing his tongue over her clit in quick, short motions, and he’s ready to hold on forever, to stay in this rhythm until his tongue aches and his jaw burns - but Jenna has other ideas. 

He feels her let go of the tension in her legs until she’s really, _truly_ sitting, pressed as close as she can get to him. Josh opens his mouth further to accommodate her, doing his best to suck on her clit, and taking measured but flustered breaths through his nose where it’s pressed against milky skin and just the softest suggestion of downy, peach-fuzz hair. 

He can’t move his tongue as much at this angle, can’t get his rhythm back, but Jenna doesn’t seem to care. She isn’t looking for technique, doesn’t need it, because she’s doing the hard work on her own. She chases Josh’s tongue with her hips wherever it goes, grinding down against his mouth, bracketing his jaw with her thighs - not too tight to hurt, but tight enough to keep him where she needs him, and render him helpless.

He absolutely fucking loves it. 

Her knees are pressed against his ears, muffling everything. Josh flutters his eyes closed, too, depriving his senses and letting himself be consumed with the feeling of touch, Jenna’s legs around his head, and Tyler’s fingers on the head of his cock. 

Josh can’t believe that it can actually be like this - they’ve made everything about him without him having to tell anyone what to do, never taking advantage of his desire to lose control, but harnessing it, giving him the luxury of feeling protected and dominated at the same time. 

He wants to push her over the edge, to feel her gush and swell against his lips - but she pulls off before he gets the chance. Josh does his best to chase her, pushing and clinging as she moves away, but Jenna laughs sweetly, pushing him delicately back down against the pillow. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” she tells him. “But good boy.” 

Josh bites his wet lip. It tastes like her. 

Tyler’s smiling up at him from his hips. “Jenna likes to wait,” he explains sheepishly, like it’s a secret, and if Josh could get harder, he would. 

With what strength he has left, he pulls Tyler up his body, bringing him close for a desperate kiss. It’s like he can’t go too long without kissing each of them - one without the other is too much and not enough at the same time. He wants all of it, and getting it feels so good, so much, that he forgets to feel greedy. 

He breaks off to catch his breath, pressing their foreheads together and gasping for air. 

“Josh,” Tyler whispers, reverent. 

“Sweetheart,” Jenna echoes. “Tell us what you need, and we’ll give it to you.” 

It’s too much all over again. He chokes on air, stutters out nonsense. 

“God,” is all he can get out. He doesn’t dare open his eyes. Someone’s kissing at his jaw, but he’s too far gone to know who. 

“We’re right here, Josh,” Jenna says, and the lips continue - Tyler’s mouth, then. Josh can feel him, still hard against his leg, and it doubles back on his own arousal. 

_Say it,_ he tells himself. 

“ _Jenna._ ” 

“Baby.” 

“ _Please,_ ” he begs, before he’s even said what he’s begging for. 

He knows what he wants. He wants what Tyler gets from her, what he knows she gives him, but it feels like too much to ask. More than he’s entitled to. 

Josh takes a deep breath.

“Fuck me, Jenna, _please_ ,” he chokes. 

One of them lets out a long, low sound, and he realizes belatedly that it was _Tyler._ Jenna’s quiet, stroking his cheek, and Josh can’t make a sound - but Tyler’s propped up at his side, hair tousled and lips red, looking like he’s been waiting for Josh to say that his whole life. 

“Baby,” Jenna hums, drawing the word out like she draws out his name. “You can have whatever you want.”

“I want you,” he whimpers. 

“You have me,” she promises. “You have both of us.” 

Tyler squirms next to him, panting, and it only now occurs to Josh how long Tyler has been hard, leaking, and without contact. There’s so much to keep track of, so many people’s wetness and hardness and need, and Josh’s head is swimming with the polarizing urge to have all of them coming, _now,_ and also to hold out for Jenna, to be good. 

Tyler says something, but he’s too caught up to catch what it was. 

“What, Ty?” he says. “Hm?” 

He blushes, and repeats himself. “Can I help?” 

They both automatically look to Jenna. Her eyes are bright, mouth turning up. 

“You gonna help me make Josh come, Ty?” she purrs, and Tyler nods, trance-like. 

Josh mirrors him. 

“You need to come first?” she says sweetly, raising an eyebrow, and Tyler groans, lips parted, nodding again, forming something like the word _please._

Jenna maneuvers off of Josh’s thighs, prompting Tyler to lie back next to him on the pillows. She follows, coming to hover over both of them at once, and noses at Josh’s neck as she speaks into his ear. 

“Can you be a good boy for me, and help Tyler feel good while I get ready to fuck you?” 

A whine tears up Josh’s windpipe, and he has to actually literally grip his dick to stop himself coming right then and there. He couldn’t even have dreamed that sentence if he tried. This is a thousand times better than anything he’s ever imagined. 

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, Ty, please. Wanna - Tyler.” 

Tyler gets his lips on him again, messy and desperate, and he gets so caught up in rolling over and kissing him that he barely even notices Jenna slipping away.

Josh pushes his hips forward, giving Tyler the contact he’s been missing. Their rhythm is practiced and immediate, Tyler rutting against his hip, and Josh encouraging him with a hand braced on the small of his back. 

They break their kiss so that Tyler can catch his breath, panting helplessly into Josh’s collar bone. He’s close already, Josh can tell, and he knows that he should get Tyler’s shorts and underwear off, but he can’t bring himself to bother. It’s not the first time Tyler will have made a mess like this, and if Josh is honest, each of them knows exactly how much the other one not-so-secretly loves it. 

“Close, close,” Tyler chants, curling a tight arm around Josh’s neck and doubling the speed of his thrusts against Josh’s thigh. It’s been minutes, maybe even less, but Tyler’s been waiting so long. “Gonna…” 

“Come on, Ty,” he pleads. “You’re so good, you’re so, so good -”

It’s enough to push him over the edge. Tyler clenches his leg around him, and Josh can feel dampness spreading out against his thigh as Tyler finishes with dozens of tiny thrusts, shuddering and babbling into Josh’s skin. 

And then, like magic, Jenna’s there again, swooping low over Tyler’s body with ease, to stroke and kiss and whisper praise into his ear. Josh watches them, enthralled. She helps him peel off his sticky shorts and briefs, and uses them to wipe a little bit of the come off his stomach before tossing them down towards the foot of the bed. 

Josh sees Tyler’s face shift abruptly into a smile, and then into fidgety laughter, as he squirms in Jenna’s grasp. Josh wonders what he’s reacting to - until he feels something solid and unfamiliar pressing against his thigh, and realizes, with the force of an electric shock, that Jenna’s wearing a strap-on. 

The first thing Josh can process is that the harness looks immensely complex - but he moves on quickly from that thought, his mind completely consumed and focused on the compact, pink dildo, sticking out erect from Jenna’s small frame. It looks utterly natural somehow - like it’s supposed to be there, despite it’s unlikely color and silicone sheen.

“You there, love?” Jenna says endearingly through a smile, and Josh realizes he’s been staring, transfixed, for a little too long. 

“I - _ahhhhh,_ ” is all he can manage. “It’s pink.” 

Tyler titters, but Jenna’s laugh comes silently, and the force of it scrunches up her face. 

“Just for you,” she teases. 

She hoists herself nimbly over Tyler’s body, and comes to rest in between the two boys, leaning in to kiss Josh briefly. He feels the press of the dick on his leg again, and can’t help but shiver. 

But even now, Josh finds his heart lighter than it has been all evening at the notion that Tyler and Jenna really are _like this_ , so secure in themselves that they just bring a strap-on to an out-of-state festival without a single thought. Josh feels himself filling with immense gratitude for Jenna at the way she’s broken down Tyler’s defenses and loosened him up like this, into someone so far from who he was when Josh first met him, and God, he loves them both so much, he doesn’t know which one of them he loves more. He can’t believe he doesn’t have to choose. 

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Jenna moving between his legs until she’s already there. She puts gentle pressure on the insides of his thighs, spreading them apart with her hands until his knees are by his ribs, as far up as we can get them. 

“Sweetheart,” she begins, flicking her eyes up to look at him. “Is this new for you?” 

Josh avoids both of their gazes, shrugging. 

“Tell me, baby,” she encourages. “Just want to know how to help you.” 

Tyler curls a gentle arm around his thigh, nuzzling his fluffy hair against his knee and looking up at him with wide brown eyes. Between the two of them, Josh doesn’t stand a chance of keeping secrets. 

“I’ve fingered myself,” he admits quickly, in a barely audible whisper. “Kind of a lot.” 

Tyler makes a noise between a gasp and a moan, hiding his face in the crook of Josh’s hip. Jenna just strokes the inside of his thigh soothingly. 

“What a good boy,” she comments, and even though it’s at least the third time she’s said it tonight, the praise still succeeds in making Josh’s heart leap into his throat.

Her gentle strokes along his thighs draw further down, until she’s teasing the skin around his entrance, pressing a soft, careful thumb to the tight skin of Josh’s hole. He looks up at her, panting, silently begging her to continue. 

She breaks contact, fiddling with a bottle of lube, and while she’s occupied, and idea forms in Josh’s mind - less of an idea, really, and more of a desire, so sharp that he can’t ignore it. 

“Tyler,” he mumbles, letting his legs drop and flipping himself over onto his front, onto the other boy, who’s propped up against the pillows. 

Tyler lets out a little “oomph” of surprise at having Josh suddenly on top of him, but he accommodates him quickly, looping his arms around Josh’s back and tucking his face into his shoulder. Josh reciprocates, burrowing his nose into the crook of Tyler’s neck, planting his knees on the mattress and spreading his legs, readying himself for Jenna’s fingers. 

“Baby,” Jenna intones, her voice laced with something low and sultry, and it takes Josh a second to realize that it’s arousal, strong and unabashed. He suddenly can’t wait another minute - and neither, it seems, can she. He feels the cold tip of a lube coated finger rubbing a ring around his entrance, and he nudges back into the feeling, wanting more. 

She gives it to him. Josh gasps and groans at the feeling of her finger. Jenna is taking things incredibly slow, despite all of their impatient, labored breathing. She’s gentle with him - always so gentle - and even though he’d give anything to have her inside him already, he breaths, and waits, and lets her take her time, for both their sakes. 

He starts losing track of the transitions between fingers, the time between each digit - can’t keep track of how long it’s been before she has two, and then three, and then - slim, delicate fingers - four. He’s too engrossed in the sweaty electricity of Tyler’s skin against his own, the ache of his dick hanging between his legs. Jenna has to ask him twice if he’s alright before he gets it together to groan out an affirmative in reply. 

Her weight disappears from his back, and he whines- but she doesn’t make him wait long. Josh hears the click of the lube bottle again, and then she’s curling herself all the way down over his heaving, prone body, to whisper in his ear. 

“Let us take care of you, Joshie,” she hums. “We’re going to help you feel so good.” 

He has complete faith in her. 

...and he’s not disappointed. Jenna bottoms out with practiced ease, using a hand to guide herself inside him, and Josh’s long, loud groan gets lost in Tyler’s neck. He shudders, bucks, and Tyler whines, shushes him, whispers gentle nonsense to ground him. 

Josh can’t remember ever being this hard. 

He doesn’t need to see his dick to know that it’s red and swollen and leaving pre-come on Tyler’s thighs. Jenna’s cautious, lengthy thrusts start to blur into each other. It’s all one, immense, all-consuming haze of pleasure. 

“Josh, Josh,” Tyler’s chanting beneath him, and the pattern is his tether to reality. 

“Tyler,” he gasps in return. 

Their dicks come into contact with each other. Josh witnesses a full-body shudder overtake Tyler, and he realizes that his dick is hard yet again, trapped between their stomachs. 

“Tyler,” he groans, ruined, actually letting out a sob when their dicks make contact again. 

Tyler sees him slipping; understands. He gets a hand between them, wrapping it around Josh’s length and his own. He doesn’t even have to move - their dicks slide hotly together every time Jenna fucks into him, death after death after ecstatic little death. They’re a well-built machine. 

He feels a hand on his back, pressing him further down as Jenna seeks a better angle. She readjusts, pushing back in, and Josh’s vision whites out at the feeling of her dick pressing on places inside him that his own fingers have never been able to reach. 

“Oh my God.” 

“ _Josh_.” 

“ _Jenna._ ” 

Tyler chimes in with a wordless moan. 

“Tyler,” Josh grants him, his name coming out in a hundred broken pieces. He looks him right in the eye, their foreheads knocking together clumsily. “Ty, she’s so - it’s so -” 

Another groan from the boy below him. “I know, I know, Josh.” 

Suddenly desperate to see her, Josh twists to look over his shoulder at Jenna. 

She’s _unreal._

He didn’t know anyone could look so good, and for all his pining, he’s never imagined her like this - flushed, shining, damp pink hair escaping from her elastic and framing her face. She has her mouth open and jaw thrust out, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration, or pleasure, or maybe both as she gives him what he needs again and again. 

She’s so small, but so powerful, and he never wants to go another day without knowing the forceful intimacy of her affection. 

“Ty,” he pants out. “Can she come like this? Can we make her come?” 

“Aghhh,” Tyler rasps, open-mouthed. “She needs fingers, she - your hand -” 

Reflexively, not thinking, Josh reaches a hand back blindly, and Jenna catches it immediately in her own. 

“God, _fuck_ Josh, _c’mere,_ ” he hears Jenna cry, and the exclamation threatens to overwhelm all three of them past their breaking point. He lets her guide his hand where she needs it, twisting himself to stretch far enough so that she can get his fingers in the hot, soaked valley where the base of the strap-on is grinding against her clit. 

And just like when she was fucking his mouth, he doesn’t have to do a thing - Jenna’s in control, orchestrating every one of their trio’s movements. It’s everything Josh has ever dreamed about, and he feels the relief of submission burning through every cell in his body. 

Jenna collapses fully onto his back, rutting erratically now as she touches herself. She lets her head rest sideways on the nape of his neck, and Josh sees and feels a pink avalanche cascade over his shoulder, tangling with his own yellow curls until he’s overwhelmed in a haze of peach-colored euphoria, and everything is almost too much to bear, almost enough to die - 

They finish in a chain reaction; not three climaxes, but one, building on itself twice and thrice over. 

It starts with Tyler, his gasps cracking open into one long low scream as he spills over their stomachs; and then, Jenna, grinding her hips against Josh’s hand, gushing, groaning, and shaking above him. 

Josh’s orgasm hits him like an earthquake, overtaking his entire body until he’s convulsing between them. He can’t even remember which limbs belong to him, which breaths and noises are his own - it doesn’t matter, really; it’s like they’re all feeling each other’s pleasure along with their own. He clutches at anything he can reach - Tyler’s shoulder, Jenna’s wrist - holding on as tight as he can to the two people he loves more than anything else. 

No one bothers moving, and they remain a heaving, hot pile of bodies for several long moments before Jenna breaks the silence. Her voice is less controlled before, weaker and lower, but it still radiates love and comfort, even now. 

“Baby,” she practically sings, exhausted, glowing. “Josh, Tyler.”

She doesn’t need to say anything else. They understand. 

In near slow motion, she detangles herself from the two of them, slipping out of her harness and coaxing Josh off of Tyler’s body. Josh feels boneless, slack, and he allows himself to be maneuvered between them - facing Tyler, clinging to him, with Jenna engulfing him from behind. 

He keeps waiting to come down from his high, to sink back into his surroundings, but he can’t seem to catch his breath. It’s all still overwhelming to the point of detachment, and he searches helplessly for warmth, comfort, all the contact he can find. He needs them, both of them, so much.

“You’re crying,” Tyler realizes out loud, voice high with concern, and even though it’s out in the open now, Josh still tries to hide it, turning his face into Tyler’s collar bone and pressing his lips tightly together.

But there are two pairs of delicate hands in his hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead and tracing soothing patterns along his scalp, slowly steadily bringing him back to earth. 

Josh has only gone this far into subspace a couple other times, maybe, and it was more scary than anything else without the response he needed to come down - but this isn’t that. This is more than he could ask for, his slack frame draped over Tyler, and Jenna behind him, subsuming him with her small body, pressing kiss after kiss into the back of his neck, the base of his hair. 

And she’s talking to him, drawing him off the edge of oblivion, reminding him to _breathe, that _he's good, _he did so so good for her._ __

__“Good boy,” she promises, and then “good boys.”_ _

__Tyler huffs and squirms at the praise, nudging his nose against Josh’s neck. It’s enough to make some blood rush back to Josh’s heart, and reality starts to piece itself together again._ _

__The return of his rationality brings with it an intense urge to be closer to Jenna, be able to touch her and look at her. He presses hot, slack lips into Tyler’s hair once before carefully rolling over and finding himself face to face with dark blue eyes, glassy and full of more love than he thought it possible for one person to possess._ _

__“My baby boy,” Jenna whispers, and it nearly stops his heart. “Josh, I love you.”_ _

__He tries to say it back, _feels_ it, so much, but his voice got lost with his orgasm. She seems to understand, not bothering to press him for a response, but kissing him gently instead. _ _

__“Does he usually get nonverbal?” she says over his shoulder, to Tyler, and even as he hears Tyler beginning to tell her no, he nods his head yes._ _

__Jenna’s hand goes straight to his curls._ _

__“But maybe not with other people before?” she guesses. He nods gratefully, relieved that she seems to be able to read his thoughts when he can’t convey them. Tyler once told him that Jenna was the smartest person he knew - Josh didn’t fully understand what he meant until now._ _

__He feels pressure on his ribcage and registers Tyler’s arms snaking around his torso, holding tightly. Jenna follows suit, curling a tight arm around the back of his neck and resting her forehead against his, and Josh has never felt so close to anyone in his life, so unquestionably safe._ _

__“I love you,” Josh breathes to both of them. He can’t get his voice above a whisper, but it’s enough._ _

__“So much,” Tyler agrees._ _

__Jenna pecks him on the nose. “So, so, much.”_ _

__It’s Jenna who finally pulls a blanket up over the three of them, curling in even closer, and prompting Tyler to do the same on his other side. It’s like they’re trying to meld their bodies together, become one person, with the same limbs, the same breath, the same beating heart._ _

__“I love you,” he whispers into Jenna’s collarbone again, getting used to the words, to the fact that he’s allowed to say them. He’s met with a smattering of kisses from two different mouths. He’s met with stray, pink hair, tickling below his eyes. Peaceful, gratified, and not at all guilty, Josh begins to fall into sleep - and he trusts it to catch him._ _

__He hears them murmuring, as he toes the edge of oblivion, hears one of them speak, and the other one echo: because that’s the arrangement now, that’s the status quo - love, twice over._ _

__“We’ve got you, Josh.”_ _

__“We’ve got you.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i can’t adequately express how much josh and jenna’s dynamic intrigues me like sometimes i’ll just space out and think about jensh for a wholeass hour. 
> 
> i'm @vialism on tumblr!


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